


NON SEQUITUR or, The other side of the Echo

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: Set ST VOYAGER Seasons 1, 2 through Season 7. Reference TNG Season 5 "The First Duty".Based on the episode "Non Sequitur" from St Voyager season 2 episode 5 in which not Harry Kim but Captain Kathryn Janeway slips through the space-time fracture and meets Admiral Chakotay of that timeline. My story explores the other timeline, where Nicole Janeway captains Voyager and her husband Admiral Chakotay remains at home. A lot of things are different in the new timeline!""I believe the quantum fissure we discovered is a fixed point across the space-time continuum - a keyhole which intersects many other quantum realities. For any event there is an infinite number of possible outcomes. Our choices determine which outcomes to follow. But there is a theory in quantum physics that all possibilities that can happen do happen in alternate quantum realities.""Commander Data - ST. TNG S7E11: Paralells"
Relationships: Alternate B'Elanna Torres/Mike Ayala, Alternate Nicole Janeway/Admiral Chakotay, Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Kudos: 4





	1. Last days of Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to Mary S working on this ongoing project.
> 
> Please read the "INTRODUCTION" at the start of Chapter 1.

PREAMBLE/INTRODUCTION

In 2008 I wrote a vignette called "Echo" of just over 500 words. This little story was written in response to the **Writing Extravaganza challenge** on VAMB [Voyager Angel Message Board]. The writer had to take a non-traditional J/C episode and rewrite it to make it J/C. I chose the episode **"Non Sequitur"** , the one in which Harry Kim is accidentally shunted into another universe where he meets his fiancee Libby, meets Tom Paris and Cosimo, the universe-hopping alien.

I reworked the episode so that Kathryn was the one going through the space-time matrix.

I was encouraged to write a full fic around these circumstances of Kathryn Janeway meeting another Chakotay in another universe and one who never left Earth. All the circumstances were different in the "Alternate Universe" in a story I called "ECHOES".

In "Echoes" a ship which they determine to be a Federation vessel USS Voyager with identical registry number to "our" universe, slips through a spatial rift and finds itself in the universe of "VOYAGER PRIME" [our universe]. Its CO is Captain Nicole Janeway with her first officer Commander Magnus Rollins. Chakotay is not on this vessel as he is currently an Admiral serving at Starfleet Command. It is the same Admiral Chakotay who helped Captain Kathryn Janeway return to her own timeline when she slipped through the space-time matrix and landed in his bed.

After long deliberation and after which some readers wondered what happened "on the other side", I have decided to write a new story featuring the "other" Voyager with Captain Nicole Kathryn Janeway whose husband Admiral Chakotay pines for her at home on Earth. What happens to Torres who adopted Mike Ayala's sons who were with them on the Liberty? What happened to Tom Paris after he assisted Kathryn Janeway travel to the rift? And so on!

Readers following this new story are urged to read ECHOES first to (re)acquaint themselves with events in that story. Also, this story will also shift between these two universes/timelines. Once again, "their" timeline I'll mark as "Alternate Voyager", "Alternate Earth" and our "own" timeline as "Voyager Prime", "Earth Prime" and so forth.

This is a multi-chapter story. Do bear with me!

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: LAST DAYS OF AUTUMN

**Alternate Alpha Quadrant - Deep Space Nine**

He dreamed of golden leaves drifting reluctantly, full of beauty, towards earth, hardly lingering as they slowly joined others that had succumbed to the portents of the coming winter, in gentle cadences arcing, a delight to the eye. He imagined music accompanying the movement of the leaves, their favourite Chopin preludes he loved so much. She'd played them first on the holodeck of his vessel, the USS Brigadoon, quite surprised at her accomplishment as she sat at the grand piano, her body swaying as she immersed herself in the music. He had come to love Chopin as much as she. Now in his dream he pictured the leaves in their final movements. He saw her standing on the carpet of leaves, her dress swaying gently about her ankles. She'd laughed into the imager, a bright tinkling sound that pierced his heart with aching joy which lingered for hours afterwards.

This was the Indiana he loved. Her home had become his home, his world had become hers. A grand piano took pride of place in their lounge and whenever they were home together, she played for him. He reached to touch her, but her smiling figure drifted away from him, her hands outstretched in a cheerful goodbye.

Chakotay stirred slowly to wakefulness, buoyed by his dream of Nicole, of Indiana and golden leaves and bright laughter and Chopin preludes. His wife lay fast asleep still, although it was time for her to be up. He was reluctant to wake her, but they were on a starship with command protocols and he was her guest! He wanted to gaze at her for a few minutes longer, caressing her hair, the swell of her breasts just where the line of her nightgown created a horizon beyond which lay unimagined intimacy. He smiled inwardly at the thought as he remembered the urgency of her mission. New horizons, new missions…

It was unusual for Nicole Janeway to sleep beyond 0600. Chakotay heaved himself to his side, bracing on his elbow. He enjoyed watching his wife sleep, but right now he had to wake her. She looked so peaceful, devoid of the cares of the world. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he had ever known and probably would ever know in his life.

Soon they had to part, she to the Badlands and he heading home to Indiana, which looked uncommonly beautiful this time of the year with golden leaves proliferating the area around the homestead.

Sighing, he caressed her cheek, moving a stray hair from her face. He smiled as her lips moved where his fingers brushed lightly across them. Nicole stirred lazily, breathed in deeply before worming herself against him, moaning as she enjoyed the sensation of breathing in his musk. They were on Voyager, docked at Deep Space 9, in her quarters.

"You have to wake up, honey," he urged her gently.

"It is autumn in Indiana…" Nicole murmured half asleep.

"I know. I dreamed of golden leaves and you playing Chopin's prelude. I shall always remember the falling leaves."

"Admiral Paris married us there."

"I know. Now get up, will you, my beloved?"

"Fifteen more minutes, Admiral," she breathed against him. "I must enjoy this last hour with my husband. Is that such a crime? Hmmm?"

"I guess not." He smiled as he settled again next to her, then kissed her warm, soft lips.

He loved her and couldn't imagine a single day without her. He remembered the day they met, three years ago. He had captained the USS Brigadoon and was not a little put out when Admiral Paris appointed his executive officer without consulting him first. "Don't worry, Captain Chakotay," Admiral Paris had promised in his blustery way, "you will love her."

He had been sceptical, but when he saw Nicole... He'd been instantly captivated. How right Admiral Paris was! He fell in love with her right then. Nicole was the daughter of a deceased admiral and a mother who was a mathematics professor at the prestigious Zephram Cochrane University. Nicole Kathryn Janeway was Starfleet aristocracy without a shred of the hauteur he'd come to expect of some individuals in the hierarchy of Starfleet Command.

"You surprised me, Captain," she'd told him months later. "I didn't expect a brooding Native American who'd saved Dorvan from imminent destruction and was still suffering post traumatic stress from the experience. Under that exterior you have a hard streak which very few recognise."

"You know me well, for someone who just met me."

"Dorvan hardened you, Chakotay, the way you fought to keep the planet within the protection of the Federation. I admire that in you - "

He'd glowed warmly inside when Nicole complimented him. She had raised her dainty fingers and traced the lines of his tattoo, her eyes closed as if she'd tried to the erase memories of his torture. And it felt to him as if indeed, Nicole's gentle caress helped still the beasts in him, for his agony had loosened those animals he'd tried hard to subdue within him.

Dorvan's trials were not over, but he had bought his homeworld valuable time, had visited often to connect with his father, who loved Nicole deeply, with the humbleness he'd always admired about Kolopak.

They had become lovers not long after their first meeting, serving on the Brigadoon for a year and keeping their relationship strictly private.

And always, his words to her, "I will love you forever, Nicole. Forever."

They'd based themselves at Indiana with Gretchen Janeway's blessing. He had accepted promotion to admiral not long after they married and Nicole had taken over command of the USS Brigadoon.

Now two years later, Nicole commanded Starfleet's newest vessel, USS Voyager. For an Intrepid Class vessel, Voyager was one of the fastest in the fleet, with a maximum cruise velocity of warp 9.975. Nicole was to take Voyager into the Badlands to pursue and capture a Maquis cell leader, B'Elanna Torres, half-Klingon, half-human female who'd managed to elude them for the past six months. He knew of the renegade through Ro Laren and Nick Locarno, who'd furnished them with key information about this particular Maquis cell after his capture. On his recommendation, he’d had her placed on Command's high priority list for capture, before the Cardassians got their hands on her. What intelligence she possessed was better in the hands of the Federation than her being tortured to death by the Cardassians. He'd been there, survived the horror of Cardassian torture methods. He couldn't imagine Torres going through the same. She would not survive.

Chakotay remembered how outraged Nicole had been when he'd shared with her his trials during the Freedom of Dorvan.

"I love you, Chakotay," she'd said after caressing his face, hugging him fiercely for endless moments.

Now as he watched her in slumber, he remembered how intense their lovemaking had been during the night. The prospect of their pending separation had weighed subconsciously on them both. Once, when they'd rested briefly, he'd told her, "I'm not going anywhere, Nicole, my beloved." It was as if they'd clung together believing it was the last time they'd see one another.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere, either, Chakotay, but I'm going to be away for two weeks. Our lovemaking has to be memorable, you know? So I can feast on the memory for two whole weeks! Don't worry, you can be as wild with me as I know you like. Now, honey, love me again."

And so they'd tumbled together and made wild and passionate love.

"Honey…"

Chakotay leaned in and kissed her gently.

"Hmmm…"

"Come on, wake up now. You have a ship to take to the Badlands and I have to return to Headquarters."

Nicole opened one eye, then the other before she flew from his arms.

"You let me sleep!" she accused him.

"Honey, you asked for fifteen minutes more. Now what's a Nicole-loving husband to do but obey your command?"

"It'll all your fault, Admiral, if I'm late to my own bridge!"

Nicole's delightfully flaming hair fanned about her face, her blue eyes sparkling with mixed anger and love. Within seconds the anger subsided.

"You know you look beautiful when you're mad?"

"I cannot stay mad at you for long, and you know it," Nicole snapped as she poked his chest with a dainty finger before rushing to the bathroom.

"Hey, wait for me, my love. I have to be off your ship, remember?"

"I have the tub."

"Fine! The shower's mine!

*

Forty five minutes later, Chakotay stood on Voyager's transporter pad. They'd said their last goodbye in the lounge of her quarters. He'd looked around for the last time, noting her medicine wheel against a bulkhead, a photograph of him on her desk, taken when they'd last visited Dorvan where he'd introduced her to the _habak._ In her vision she'd seen her late father and her fiancé Justin Tighe who had died together in an accident on Tau Ceti Prime when their prototype vessel Terra Nova crashed. Later she'd said tearfully to Chakotay that Justin's spirit had urged her to be happy with the new man in her life. 

They had fondly remembered their night of intimacy, and he'd thought that when Nicole returned from the Badlands, they could talk about starting a family. He was so ready to be a father and Nicole would make a super mother.

Chakotay sighed deeply. Subspace communication was not nearly adequate enough when they were still so much in love after two years of marriage. He was going to miss his wife. He'd wrapped his arms around her and remained in close embrace for countless seconds, revelling in the way her arms practically clamped his waist. He breathed in her hair, her familiar perfume - a favourite she called "Black Magic". He felt her softness and firmness and tenderness all at once, then decided Nicole Kathryn Janeway was a singularly remarkable woman as well as a brilliant starship captain.

He felt blessed that she didn't turn him away when he first declared his love for her. He'd been so nervous at the time, but decided he'd never know of her feelings if he didn't share his own with her. He was a Native American who'd just endured the greatest pain when his mother died during the Cardassian purge, consoling his father and sister in their grief, his endless diplomatic entreaties to save Dorvan, the agony he'd suffered at their hands and she? Nicole Kathryn Janeway was a Starfleet blue blood; she could have chosen anyone as a life mate. Indeed she indeed had had a relationship with Mark Johnson who, once he'd seen Nicole was drifting from him, had declared, "Your heart asks for another, Nicole, not mine. I am privileged that we could have been together so long, but Chakotay has captured your heart. I shall always treasure what we had, and I hope that our friendship endures."

She had not wanted to let Mark down. Her integrity was inborn, and Mark was a hero to the end. Chakotay admired that in the quiet philosopher, a member of the prestigious Questor Group. After her breakup with Mark, Nicole had banged on the door of his apartment in San Francisco, demanding he let her in, then proceeded to show him how much in love with him she was. That was the way of his Nicole. When she'd made a decision, nothing could stand in her way. She had practically barged into his apartment that night and never looked back.

"I will love you forever" had become his mantra since then. They were the words inscribed on the insides of their wedding bands.

"Remember to run the dogs, sweetheart," Nicole murmured against his chest. "Don't forget to feed them."

As if he could forget! It was his job whenever they were back on the farm in Indiana. They were more his dogs than Nicole's, who'd been gifted the beautiful Irish Setters by Mark Johnson. They'd latched onto Chakotay and never wandered too far from him on the farm. He could spend hours just brushing their magnificent manes.

"Don't worry, my beloved. They are in good hands."

"As I am right now. Oh…"

"What is it, beloved?"

He smiled down at her, so petite, tiny and feisty, yet her voice exuded power.

"Don't forget to look up Tom Paris, will you? He needs a lot of encouragement, my love. I couldn't get him to pilot Voyager. He flatly refused to accept a golden opportunity to make good on the life he chose. I guess he was too inebriated to respond with a clear mind… Will you, Chakotay, please? Don't make me remind you again."

"Don't worry so, my love. Now there's a young man would have been the best pilot in the Federation - "

"Well, you know I sprung Nick Locarno from the New Zealand Penal Colony. Strange, he looks a lot like Tom Paris - "

"Nicole, my darling, you know they're half-brothers."

She'd nodded, then hurled herself into his embrace again. He was going to do her bidding, for he was concerned about Tom Paris, who shunned all social contact with his parents, who remained as angry now as he'd been as a young Academy cadet, the best flyer of his generation. And for what? That his father had been in a relationship with another woman and spawned a son by her? Being driven to succeed by an over zealous father who only desired that his son be the best at what he was - brilliant flyer and designer?

He was going to speak with Tom as soon as he got home.

Finally, Nicole stood away from him. Her demeanour had changed subtly from loving wife to Starfleet captain. Chakotay always marvelled at the way she could channel herself from captivating charm to the strength and resourcefulness of leadership in the strength of her face and bearing. It was time to part. In the privacy of her quarters away from prying eyes they could love, kiss, embrace and whisper words of endearment.

Now he waited on the transporter pad, his meanderings halted when he heard Ensign Mulcahy's voice. He looked at Nicole who appeared suddenly a little more aloof. They were watched keenly by everyone who wanted to see their captain and her husband together. Especially Magnus Rollins, her chief of security and a good friend of theirs.

Then, as if some inner little demon challenged him, he stepped off the platform again, to gasps from his wife. Ignoring Mulcahy and Rollins he pulled Nicole into his embrace, his head quite close to her face. He didn't kiss her, but caressed her cheek. He had to tell her again what he always told her in their moments of intimacy.

"I will love you forever, my beloved. Return to me soon…"

One last look at her, he returned to the platform. Nodding to Mulcahy, he then shot a glance at Magnus Rollins.

"Take good care of her, Magnus," he ordered.

*******

END CHAPTER ONE

tbc ch2 


	2. Preludes #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Locarno reflects on his time in prison and being approached by Nicole Janeway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One week into its journey and Voyager is about to enter the Badlands.

**Alternate Alpha Quadrant - New Zealand Penal colony**

This time of the year, New Zealand was at its most beautiful. Snow-capped mountain ranges rising out of the earth in aloof magnificent splendour, lakes that shimmered on quiet sun filled afternoons, green undulating hills that could have one gasping in the splendour of creation. He remembered an ancient psalm his mother always quoted whenever she visited Earth's natural wonders - the earth is the Lord's and everything in it belongs to Him. He wasn't overly religious, but some texts seemed the pierce his soul for the sheer beauty contained in them.

New Zealand was beautiful. It was a haven for the destitute, the downtrodden, demented and those stricken with oppressive emotional traumas. Here they could recharge and claw their way back to health, then rejoin society fresh and youthful.

It was also the Federation's penal facility. Criminals were reassigned here, political prisoners languished in isolation chambers, and rebels and other delinquents were put to labour – all overindulgent prison reforms that satisfied the notion that prisoners' human rights were being observed.

New Zealand was prison for Nicholas Emory Locarno, languishing there after his short but calamitous stint in the Maquis. Now he was to be released on the good word of Captain Nicole Kathryn Janeway.

Nick Locarno waited in the foyer of the penal settlement. A huge relief flooded him when his security anklet was removed by the senior warden - Commander Elian Strauss. Strauss had been tight-lipped since freeing Nick from the restraints, although he'd been quite vocal after Captain Janeway, backed by her husband Admiral Chakotay, bartered for Locarno's freedom.

Strauss had moaned about officers in high places using their influence to grant favours to prisoners, though he'd grudgingly admitted that Nick Locarno was a low level risk. All he knew was that the Maquis bases were located in the Badlands, and that it was nearly impossible to navigate a Constitution class starship through the persistent ion storms that ravaged that area of space. He'd agreed to free Locarno for the mission, indicating that Locarno had better not break any laws that would haul him back to New Zealand.

The young man was a brilliant flyer but a shoddy renegade, caught on his first mission with the Maquis, a cell headed by a fiery female every Cardassian wanted to get his hands on. In Strauss’ opinion, if it weren't for some people in high places, Locarno's punishment would have been more severe. Now he was actually glad the prisoner was being released; he would help Janeway apprehend every other Maquis so that all would be well once more in Federation space.

Meanwhile Locarno was becoming a little impatient waiting for his transport to arrive. He'd been told to be in uniform, and felt the red jacket clinging to him like an old friend. Only two days ago, Captain Nicole Janeway herself had come to see him. He had been a little bitter, though his whole being awakened to the fact he would be flying a starship, a brand new one at that. Small, Intrepid class but highly manoeuvrable in difficult situations, such as the nebula-filled, ion storm-ridden Badlands. 

"I know B'Elanna Torres, Captain," he'd told her. "Not very well, I have to admit. But she's brilliant and it will be hard to capture her. Unless you planted a mole on her ship."

Janeway had smiled, a cunning little twist of her lips.

"You have someone on board?"

Captain Janeway had only nodded, then reluctantly admitted that he had to be rescued as well.

"How can I help? I am already working for the Federation, but a change of job will - "

"Help us find Torres, Locarno, and you'll be a free man."

"I'll fly your ship?"

"Leave that aspect to me, Nick. How's your mother?"

The sudden deviation from the topic of Torres caught him in an unguarded moment. He felt the heat creeping into his neck, up to his face. His mother… Maris Locarno, medical officer on Bajor now that the Cardassians had left after decimating its resources. He'd had to tell her himself that he'd been expelled from the Academy. Stupid Kolvoord Starburst. Brilliant manoeuvre, stupidly illegal. He had it wrapped up with his squadron, except for Josh…

Maris Locarno's eyes had shuttered, unable to conceal her disappointment in her only son. He loved her, his mother and he hated that she lived an isolated life away from any familial contact, away from the man she loved. Away from Admiral Owen Paris. Although, to give the old man credit, Paris had acknowledged Nick as his son, had been his sponsor when he entered the Academy. After his expulsion during his final year, he'd been given the Starfleet equivalent of an earful by his father. After the Kolvoord incident and Josh's death, he'd plunged into a downward spiral of anger, self-disgust, grief that he'd disappointed so many. He'd vanished for a while, unbeknownst to his mother, and joined up with a band of renegades who needed a pilot.

Too bad he’d gotten caught. Now his days and nights were marked by constant regret, by the appearance of young Joshua Albert in every dream he had. His nights were never nights but they were episodes in which he tried to purge those memories, waking bleary eyed in the morning. Captain Janeway had given him a strange look when she'd confronted him. No doubt she saw his tiredness, his lack of sleep, the bags under his eyes, his sallow appearance.

Damn Joshua Albert. Dead cadet who wouldn't leave him alone. Once he dreamed of Josh telling him, "My death did the one thing my life couldn't. It has given you a conscience, Locarno."

A conscience.

He was given a chance in a million by Captain Janeway and he was going to grab it with both hands, even though he'd been less than cordial with her. It was the residue rage from his dreams, he conceded, but before he could apologise, Janeway had turned to leave after securing his commitment to join Voyager on its mission into the Badlands. He had to admit that the thrill of flight had slowly begun to seep into him again, and especially his brain and hands. Those two worked hand in hand - he could pilot a craft into the sun's corona without breaking a sweat, as if he were one with the craft. He should think about that for the future. Being one with the craft, as if he were a mere thought extension of the vessel. Voyager, Captain Janeway told him, was powered with bioneural gel packs. A ship that could think. Now there was an idea. He should suggest that to older brother Tom, if Tom would deign to connect with his half brother. Tom was a brilliant flyer, but he was more a genius designer of craft. Nick had seen one of the designs old man Paris had shown him one day. The snot could build a flyer out of tin cans and it would warp into the night sky.

He was unwilling to admit that his clammy hands and shortness of breath might be nervousness or the anticipation of being on a Federation vessel again. Someone from the USS Voyager would collect him. But right now, he was developing a slight headache, brought on mostly likely by lack of sleep, anticipation of freedom, the thrill of flight.

When Captain Janeway had left him a couple of days ago, he'd murmured to her retreating form a silent "Thank you, I will not disappoint you, Captain."

He meant to honour his promise.

***

"Mr Locarno?"

Nick started up, disturbed from his reverie. A shadow fell across his face; he noted the figure in Starfleet red. Rising abruptly to his feet, he stood at attention, staring into the dark eyes of an officer with pitch black hair pulled severely into a bun. Her face was almost devoid of colour except the red lipstick that seemed to brighten her appearance. He noticed the rank pins - lieutenant senior grade. Her hands remained at her side, fingers loose. Definitely Starfleet rigid training, he reflected, her bearing military and all business. She was, he thought, on duty which obviously she took very seriously.

"That would be me," he responded, his own attitude confident though moments ago he'd been fraught with feelings of nervousness. "Lieutenant er…?"

"Stadi. Viastra Stadi. I am chief helm officer of Voyager. You are to accompany me to Deep Space Nine. Please follow me."

"Deep Space Nine? Why - ?"

"Voyager is docked there."

Of course. He should have known. Vessels leaving for the Badlands - those that could navigate the plasma storms - invariably departed from Deep Space Nine. He wished for a moment that Stadi's face could break into a smile. Still, she was beautiful.

"You are Betazoid," he chanced as he fell into step next to her towards the launching pads.

"Indeed. I will not trouble you by asking an irrelevant question such as 'How did you know?' I am assuming you have been in contact with my race, Mr Locarno."

"Sure," he replied, not wishing to go into details. He wished though, that she would smile.

They reached the launching pads and he gave a satisfied smile as he took in the lines of the shuttlecraft. The Cochrane, sleek lines, Class 2, he mused.

"Is Voyager as pretty with such sleek lines?" he asked as they boarded the shuttle and he sat in the adjoining seat. Viastra turned to him, her mouth curving into a hint of a smile that hit Nick right between the eyes.

"You'll see," Viastra said enigmatically.

*********

**Alternate Alpha Quadrant - Alternate USS Voyager**

"Enter."

Captain Nicole Janeway didn't look up from the PADD she'd been studying, hiding her irritation at being disturbed. Only when the officer stood right in front of her, did she notice the red uniform. Her eyes crept up to the face of the officer. Pitch black hair, dark eyes, tanned skin.

Lieutenant Viastra Stadi, Betazoid. Nicole thought instantly of Deanna Troi whom she had met once when the USS Enterprise had docked at McKinley Station. A genuinely kind ship's counsellor with black hair and very dark eyes, precisely like Lt. Stadi.

That young woman stood at attention, didn't seem to move a muscle, yet her eyes spoke of an inner concern, Nicole Janeway thought. Something was bothering her chief helm. She'd requested Stadi weeks ago when Admiral Paris had first apprised her of her mission. Stadi was nerveless in crunch situations as Janeway had gained from her records. Well spoken, an officer with several commendations.

Sighing inwardly, Janeway pulled her thoughts away from her communiqué with her husband. She could talk with Chakotay later.

"Anything I can do for you, Lt. Stadi?" Captain Janeway asked, placing the PADD face down, all her attention on the Betazoid pilot.

"Captain, if I may - "

The young helmsman paused, seemed to weigh her next words. Janeway waited, her crankiness subdued. Chakotay was always so very, very patient. He'd wait until she made time again to communicate with him before they entered the Badlands. Meanwhile Viastra Stadi remained still. If Nicole didn't know her any better than the past week which had afforded her first impressions of the pilot, Stadi could very well turn on her heels and exit the ready room.

Nicole smiled. "Yes, Lieutenant, go ahead. Is something bothering you?"

Viastra Stadi had debated earlier whether to speak with the Captain. They were at the outer rim of the Badlands. Within hours they'd be entering this region of space. A dozen times she'd calculated telemetries and course projections, but she'd been told, not by Nick Locarno, but other officers and crewmen who'd visited the Badlands, how unpredictable ion storms were, as if they were living matter bent on endangering any traveller in that region. No matter how good a pilot was, they'd still have to endure very bumpy rides, as Nick Locarno would say.

Viastra wasn't scared, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn't want a single scratch or dent damaging Voyager, or causing crew to be injured. In order to bring the ship home still looking like she'd come off the assembly line at Utopia Planitia, another pilot might do a better job…

"We're entering the Badlands shortly, Captain," she said, closely noting Captain Janeway's reaction. Janeway appeared unreadable, though Viastra sensed that the captain was going to dissuade her from following through with her proposal. But Viastra remained resolved as she continued. "I was thinking that I might not be as adept at navigating Voyager through the unpredictable plasma storms - "

Captain Janeway was instantly intrigued. Not only that, where was this coming from? she wondered. Chakotay himself had given her glowing references about the pilot.

"Lieutenant, you were selected on the recommendation of my husband who trained you in your senior year. I trust you - "

"But Nick - "

Nick. First name basis. Didn't Viastra Stadi realise how revealing that was? Especially if her voice dropped a tad softer? Only a week after leaving Deep Space 9 and Stadi appeared to have lost her heart to a handsome young helmsman. Stadi was a fine pilot, one of the best, according to Chakotay, and he didn't suffer fools when it came to training senior cadets in aerial maneuvers. Why would Viastra suddenly display an insecurity that sat so wrong on her?

"What about Mr Locarno?" Janeway asked at length. "He is on board for one purpose only, Lieutenant. He knows the Maquis renegade we must apprehend. Right now, he has observer status only. He can lead us to her - "

"But he is a better pilot - "

"Why are you doubting your abilities, Lieutenant?"

"Navigating Voyager through those narrow bands. Nick is much better suited to pilot Voyager through the storms.

"Your concern is noted. I am certain you will acquit yourself adequately."

Viastra Stadi sighed visibly, a smiled hovering around her expressive lips. Nicole Janeway imagined the pilot's shrug as she nodded.

While Janeway acknowledged Nick Locarno to be one of the finest pilots in the Federation, along with his wayward brother Tom Paris, she didn't think that they'd require Nick to take the helm in the Badlands, even in dire situations. Stadi was a fully capable pilot. Nick just had to point them in the right direction.

Viastra remained at attention as she waited on the captain.

"Dismissed."

"Thank you, Captain."

After Lieutenant Stadi left, Nicole pondered on Viastra's words. She could understand the pilot's concern. Nick Locarno - disgraced senior cadet of the Academy, top of his class in everything, especially flying anything that could fly! Brilliant pilot of his generation, leader of the elite Nova Squadron, but a decision to execute a banned flight manoeuvre which culminated in the death of one of the cadets, had him expelled from the Academy. His life had gone downhill from there, flying freight until he found the Maquis. Caught while on a medical run and imprisoned.

Nicole wondered how Nick's mother dealt with her son's transgressions. A medical doctor stationed on Bajor, she kept out of the public eye. A relationship with Owen Paris had led to the birth of her son. Owen Paris, already an admiral and married to Elizabeth, Tom's mother, had had an affair with Maris Locarno. Nick was born from that union, a half-brother to Thomas Eugene Paris. Owen Paris had quietly returned to his wife. Both she and Chakotay were witness to how devoted Owen was to Elizabeth. Maris had left for Mars where she raised her son out of the public eye.

Nicole had practically sprung Nick from the New Zealand Penal Colony because of his expertise in flying. Contrary to what she’d told her chief pilot, Nick could navigate Voyager in the most dire situations, and his expertise could be used. However, his primary task was to guide them through the Badlands to Torres, a Maquis renegade, as well as Tuvok who had relayed much information to them. She'd wanted Tom Paris to accompany them, but he was too drunk in a tavern in Marseilles and too angry with her and his father to agree to her request to fly Voyager, refusing point blank to help her. According to him, she and Chakotay had been in cahoots in helping his father stray from a perfectly good marriage. Two sons of Owen Paris and both giving their father a lot of grief. Though the way she knew Admiral Paris, he grieved for and he loved both his sons.

*****

Nicole Janeway returned to the PADD she'd left face down on her desk. She read Chakotay's account of his meeting with Tom Paris.

"He was sober when I met him, more contained, less angry. I had a good conversation with him. He let us off the hook about shielding his father. His anger is rooted in what we've always suspected - his dad betraying his mother with another woman, and having a child by her. That and Owen's high expectations of him. Tom has met Nick before, though I guess it was not a formal meeting. For that there's still too much resentment from Tom. Don't worry, Nicole. He'll speak to his dad at some point. If not now, then in the near future, maybe two years down the line. I'm hopeful."

She felt bolstered by her husband's words. He wasn't finished. Like a good book, she'd taken a few moment to relish his voice, think over his words before listening again.

"Nicole, I'm sending files. It was something Tom Paris gave me. You can download it later, when you've settled a bit. It's for your perusal. Tell me what you think; I'd like you to consider it, as Owen and I are doing. Let me know when you return from the Badlands."

"What is it?" Nicole wondered.

"The specs for a super shuttle. He's even named it. He is calling it the Delta Flyer."

******* 

END CHAPTER TWO.

tbc

**Author's Note:**

> I chose the name "Nicole Janeway" as Genevieve Bujold's character in the "Caretaker" episode was "Nicole". However, in my story, the two Janeways are identical.


End file.
